


Once Upon a Time

by WaterSeraphim



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, M/M, Slow Burn, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23194303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaterSeraphim/pseuds/WaterSeraphim
Summary: Always, the cursed wolf hunts his prey without a care. It is in his nature to do so, to bring death and decay to the world around him. The elk may try to run, to outsmart the wolf, but in the end it’s destiny will always belong beneath the dirt. This elk is different. He refuses to accept his fate, he stops the wolf in his tracks, binds his bloody paws to the earth and requests a deal.“I will help you escape your curse, dear wolf. As long as I remain by your side, your teeth may not tear at my throat. If I betray this oath, you are free to devour me whole.”-Or, my spin on how Eldraine could have gone if Oko hadn’t mesmerized Garruk when they first met.
Relationships: Oko/Garruk Wildspeaker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	1. A Deal

**Author's Note:**

> I have the first few chapters of this written and ready to post. Expect weekly updates for the next few weeks. Ratings are liable to change as the story progresses.  
> Warning for gore (oko is missing a leg)

Oko’s right leg trailed behind him uselessly, attached only by the barest threads of sinew. He couldn’t go on like this. Reconnecting the tissue would be easier than sculpting a new leg from nothing. But he didn’t have the resources to be frivolous with his energy right now. It would take some time to mend it with his magic, and he had no spare time to waste. 

The form of an elk could bear the burden easier than that of a man. Three legs managed better than one. It was how he made it this far in the first place. Unfortunately an elk could not speak, and Oko was quite fond of doing that. He couldn’t run forever, eventually he would grow tired, collapse, and die. Now was the time to act.

He had managed to catch the hunter off guard and bind him with a maze of thorny vines. Even still, the man was tearing them apart, ripping the vines beneath his bloodied fingers. He was a hulking beast, growling and snarling with unrepentant fury. The hunter’s arms were larger than Oko’s torso and snapped the vines like one would tear through vellum. Veins of clotted darkness fed stinking corruption through the man’s body. Oko had the mind to steer away from the sinister power they breathed. At the base of his spine was an ugly lump exuding familiar energy that he had the misfortune of knowing was a hedron shard. Hedrons were powerful magic, and to have it implanted beneath the skin… This was no ordinary hunter.

The prison would only hold the beast momentarily, his strength was fleeing him faster than he wanted to admit. With his useless leg and no power left to defend himself it would not take much for the hunter to get what he wanted. The only options left to him were trickery and evasion. When he freed himself it would spell Oko’s demise. Planeswalking was a last resort, he had intentions for this plane and being forced to leave it would be such an annoyance.

So it was rather worth another attempt at reason.

“You have no quarrel with me, hunter. I was simply minding my own business when you decided to remove my limb from me. How rude of you! If this is how you go about introducing yourself you’ll never make any friends!”

“I’m going to kill you,” the hunter said for perhaps the hundredth time. He was really very dull company outside of the homicidal tendencies. If only he had a little humor, dying wouldn’t have been so awful.

“Yes, yes I know. You’re going to kill me and it’s going to be very fulfilling for you, I bet. But here’s another idea—what if I were to go very far away to a place where you cannot follow me and I never saw you again?”

The hunter paused in his wild thrashing in order to consider this. His hungry, predatory eyes filled with a different emotion. Curiosity, perhaps? In a flash the anger was back and he returned to his brutish growling, “There’s nowhere I can’t follow you.”

If Oko hadn’t been afraid before, he certainly was now. It was possible the hunter was being dishonest, but deception didn’t suit a beast like him. 

“And how do I know you aren’t lying? That’s very convenient for you to possess the same ability that I have. I know I’m irresistible, but this is ridiculous.”

“Then go. Try and leave,” the hunter laughed. It was cold, cruel and contained the edge of inevitability Oko knew well enough. “You’ll see if I’m telling the truth.”

Oko valued his life too much to risk it evaluating the trustworthiness of a man who wanted him chopped into a hundred little pieces. 

“Then what am I left to do? To submit myself to your axe, allowing you to cleave my head from my shoulders? That would be a disservice to you and I both. Is the chase not more intoxicating than the kill? The fear in your prey’s eyes as you tear the life from its feeble body?”

“You talk too much,” the hunter snarled venomously. 

“I think you talk too little! Some practice in conversation might do you some good. It would save you from killing every innocent person who crosses paths with you! Why must you kill me, anyway? Is this some sort of primal instinct to destroy that which you cannot have?”

“That which I-” the hunter broke off into a dark chuckle. More vines shifted, snapping beneath the man’s impossible strength. “I could have you whenever I like, pretty boy.”

“You...” Oko could not find the words to grace that comment with a reply. Was this man  _ flirting  _ with him about killing him? The  _ nerve-!  _ “No, no, no. If you want to play like that, you better have some class.”

The hunter finally decided to grace him with an explanation. “I hunt Planeswalkers. If I kill them all they’ll stop trying to find me.”

“You hunt planeswalkers? And that, my brutish friend, makes no sense. You lead me to believe that you are also a planeswalker, if that is true surely you see the flaw in this? I would have never considered looking for you in the first place if you hadn’t appeared and so kindly relieved me of my favorite leg. We have never met before, yet you are intent on killing me.”

“Shut up,” the hunter hissed.

Oko was never very good at doing what other people told him to do. 

“Your bitterness does not originate from me, now does it? No, it comes from those who hurt you in the past. The ones who made you into a beast. They’ve sunk their darkness into your heart, inspiring you to kill what you believe to be the cause of your suffering. In reality, you’re wrong. Struggling to keep your head above water, and lashing out at whatever seems easiest. Clinging to any way to channel your malice in false retribution. I am sorry, my friend. Killing me will not sate you, nor will it bring you peace. ”

The hunter’s teeth were bared, snarling in rage. “I'm going to tear you to pieces. I don’t need to justify myself to prey.”

“Wait!” Oko yelped, jerking himself backwards and away from the shifting mass of rotting vines. It was difficult on one leg without losing his balance. “I swear, I don’t mean any ill intentions toward you, hunter. You don’t have to kill me! Say the word and may we never cross paths again! Or-or-“

More vines withered away under the hunter’s foul curse. The blackness spread and destroyed everything it touched. Oko could not keep up with its dark magicks, his energy was gone. All he had left were his words and the spark within him.

There was a loud tearing sound, the hunter stretching his meaty arm past the plants’ limit. His pallid skin was mapped with blackened veins and small bloodied holes from where the thorns stuck him. Then came a snap, and a torrent of limp vines scattering uselessly to the forest floor.

“Playtime’s over,” the hunter’s grin was all teeth. Sharpened into deadly points not unlike a wolf or some other sort of predatory animal. 

“No! I’m not done talking just yet!”

With a growl his other arm broke free of the restraints, Oko cursed his lack of foresight for not placing his axe further away from him. He’d been so preoccupied recovering his leg and maintaining the growth that he hadn’t disarmed the man intent on killing him. A lattice of vines still contained the hunter’s legs, but it would be mere moments for those to decay as well.

“I don’t care.”

“Listen! I could help you, my friend. There’s clearly some… corruption plaguing you, would you not wish it to be cleansed from your body? I’ve heard tales. There are powerful relics on this plane capable of regenerating the body. It would not be so impossible for it to undo your curse, to remove the darkness from your veins. The force that withers all you touch and turns your eyes black.”

The hunter was free now, but instead of making a move towards him or brandishing his axe he crossed his arms and looked down at him. He had not the time to inspect the difference in their scale when fleeing for his life. The shadow of the night had hidden the truth in a cunning illusion. The hunter towered over him, it was a wonder that humans could even grow to be that size. “A cure? I don’t want to be  _ cured _ .”

“My friend, you cannot possibly mean that?” Oko’s voice was barely above a whisper. Around them the wild was silent as the grave. “It is  _ killing _ you. I can sense it from here. Would you rather resolve yourself to this pain? Wasting away until there’s no trace left of you but the trail of corpses in your wake?”

The hunter moved a step closer, Oko did not take a step back. He still had time to flee, but for now he had to stand his ground. There was a way through this that did not end with the removal of his head.

“You’re tryin’ to trick me,” he grunted, picking stray vines from his arms where they still latched to his flesh. “Die with some honor, pretty boy.”

Oko squeaked in a very  _ honorable  _ way, “Ah, my friend… You keep referring to me that way and I’m not sure you understand the weight it has. If you weren’t eyeing me with the intent to remove my head I would be rather flattered.”

The hunter smiled. He was so very large, and crowding close enough to make Oko want to run from his tainted sickness. He had to crane his head back uncomfortably far in order to meet the hunter’s blackened eyes. 

“R-regardless, I have a solution to our stalemate. I cannot trust that you have the means to chase me, and you would be a fool to take my word of some miracle salvation to heart without any proof. Therefore, I say we make a deal. I will aid you in finding the relic that will remove your curse, and if we fail I will allow you to end my life. If I try to run or escape from you and cheat our deal, you have the right to kill me. Does that sound amenable?”

Trapping himself into a pact with the hunter seemed to be a poor idea, but if it was his only option….

The hunter appeared to mull this over in his mind. Oko allowed himself to hope for a moment that perhaps there was still some reason within him. Then again, this was the man who had chased a sweet little elk deep into the forest to slaughter it with no motive beyond a personal vendetta. 

Suddenly the hunter jerked forward, moving faster than one would expect for his size. He closed the already too small distance between them, enveloping Oko with his aura of darkness. The hunter’s predatory eyes were mere inches away from his own. He’d seen what the man’s touch made of the vines, and knew a similar fate would befall him if he came any closer. 

A bleeding hand gripped Oko’s hair, wrenching his head to the side without any sympathy. An exposed neck was a blatant sign of submission in the animal world. The hunter and the elk, of course both of them knew the unspoken language of the forest. 

His heart was racing in his chest, choking on his own fear. Tears were welling up in his eyes but did not dare fall. A voice in the back of his mind considered how easy it would be for the beast to snap his neck like this. Only a touch more force—which came as easy to this man as breathing—and he would be dead, yet the hunter hesitated.  _ He was holding back. Why? _

Oko’s voice was caught in his throat. 

A different sort of smile was gracing the hunter’s face, he almost appeared to be smug. “You left out what happens to you if we do find this ‘ _ relic’ _ .”

“It w-would only be fair for me to go on my way and never see you again. Is that not what you ultimately desire? Peace?”

“Hm,” the hunter nodded thoughtfully. “Peace.”

Oko didn’t dare make a move even with his supposed approval. Not when his teeth were inches away from tearing his throat out. “So, do we have a deal?”

The man made a show of removing himself from Oko’s space. Releasing his iron grip on his hair and backing away slowly. “For now.”

Oko allowed himself to breathe, “G-good! Seeing as we’ll be together for some length of time, it seems only appropriate that we know each other's names?”

The hunter gave an unintelligible grunt in lieu of a response. 

“Or not,” Oko sighed. Perhaps this beast was more clever than he thought. He knew not to offer his name to a fae without hearing their own first. “My name is Oko. At least call me that instead of  _ prey _ .”

“Oko,” the hunter replied, testing the name like one would test a hot stew before eating it. “Garruk.”

“Is that your name, Garruk?”

The hunter nodded before turning away from him. It was strange how detatched the man seemed to be from his own name. He spat it like some forbidden word, wary of reprimanding from an unseen superior. Perhaps the curse had some play in it, the corruption turning him into someone he could no longer recognize. 

Oko pitied him, truly. Losing yourself was a fate worse than death. Memories were a bitter reminder of what was stolen, the haunting echoes of a childhood long gone. Many weaker men would have succumbed to misery long ago. 

“Garruk,” Oko whispered as soft as the leaves rustling in the midnight breeze. 


	2. By the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garruk adjusts to having to live with Oko without cutting his head off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a wild week, I hope Garruk and Oko make yours better.

  
Oko was getting on his nerves.

They could not move onward for almost a day. Garruk grew antsy staying in one place for too long, but Oko required more time to mend his severed leg. He took no shame in knowing he was the one who removed the man’s limb. He only regretted that he hadn’t cut the other one off as well. 

Oko didn’t seem to care either way, he was fully capable of growing it back. 

The regrowing took about an hour, but the muscle was raw and tender. Oko explained how it would be terrible to walk on and liable to bringing some sort of infection if he didn’t heal himself properly. Garruk suggested that he could carry Oko—not that he particularly wanted to—and the man scrambled to find some viable excuse to refuse the offer. 

While he healed, Garruk went off into the woods to clear his mind. The sounds of nature were calming, the closest thing to home he knew. He caught a handful of fish for dinner from a nearby stream on his way back to where he left Oko. When he returned, the man ranted on and on about how Garruk had left him vulnerable to being eaten by big monsters. If only. Garruk threw a carp at his face so he would shut up.

That only made him louder. Garruk stopped listening when he started spewing metaphors about bears. Big growly ones that assaulted innocent little creatures with fish. 

His voice—Garruk had heard more than enough of it for a lifetime then, and especially now three days later. Every moment was a hair breadth away from him finally snapping and stuffing his mouth full of dirt. Every blissful silence was a much needed reprieve from his verbal assault. It was almost impressive of how much the man could say and manage for none of it to hold meaning. 

It would be bad if Garruk killed him. He had to keep reminding himself that. For now, Oko was a necessary annoyance. 

Killing him would be so nice, though. Like a little treat.

When they made to rest each evening after the first, Oko resisted any form of physical closeness. He would lie at the outskirts of their camp and hug himself tightly, shivering in the cold. It was a wonder why he insisted on wearing so little clothing in such chilly weather. A pair of trousers was not enough to constitute an outfit.

Garruk almost wanted to call out to him, and ask for him to come closer. To draw him into his arms and share his warmth like animals huddling for survival. 

It wasn’t just the danger of the curse keeping him from doing so. 

_The previous night a lone wolf had appeared at the edge of their camp. Drawn in by Garruk’s nature but set uneased by the fire. Its paws shifted the earth beneath it as it paced along the fading light. Oko didn’t notice the animal until Garruk brought it closer with a low chittering sound._

_The fae sat frozen, Garruk could hear his heart racing from where he was sitting. Then he shifted into the form of a hare, bounding across their camp and leaping onto Garruk’s broad chest. Even as an animal Oko made too much noise for his own good. His erratic squeaking drew the wolf’s attention and brought her curiously slinking over to investigate._

_Garruk clutched the hare to his chest, wary of making any skin contact out of fear of the curse harming him. Not yet. He still needed the fae to help him, even if Oko’s company was a test of his patience. Garruk loathed to admit it, but the curse was more painful than the man’s senseless bleating._

_“Are you hungry, girl?” Garruk murmured, lowering the bundle in his arms for the wolf to sniff._

_She stuck her muzzle into Oko’s side and made a loud snort before stalking over to where Garruk left his rations. Oko was successful in making his cute, furry face look disgusted at the notion. His large flat feet kicked at his chest, squeaking in rage._

_Then without a warning, his shape returned to that of the pointy eared humanoid. Oko scowled up at him, squirming within his grasp and yearning to be set free. His claws stung like sharp little pin pricks. Garruk did as he wished and dropped him unceremoniously to the ground._

_“Ugh. Garruk! You-“ Oko hissed, rolling over onto his side and picking himself off the ground. “I cannot believe you! I am not free for consumption!”_

_“I liked you better as a hare,” Garruk sighed. The hungry wolf was trying to root through his pack with her snout and failing. He made his way over to help her, lifting the flap and holding it open. “‘Least you were cute then.”_

_Oko gasped in extreme offense, “When I was a hare-“_

_The wolf made a pleased rumble as it shredded through the roasted meat. Garruk couldn’t help but smile as he watched her. He was dying to reach out and run his hands through her beautiful fur, but he knew that doing so would kill her. So, he remained still and simply observed in admiration._

_For someone so infatuated with life, a curse of creeping death was a cruel irony._

_Oko stood next to his crouching form, and even then was barely any taller than him. Despite this the fae was trying his hardest to look intimidating, squaring up his shoulders and widening his stance. “Are you even listening to me, Garruk?”_

_“No.”_

_Oko kicked his side in frustration, Garruk barely felt it. He didn’t wear any shoes, after all. Oko wasn’t strong enough to hurt him like that. Though he was lucky Garruk had clothes to protect him from becoming tainted._

_”How I hate you so! You oversized ignorant man-beast! You intended to feed me to a wild animal as a joke! Are you proud of yourself? You are so very humorous. ‘_ **Hahaha. Oko is being ripped to pieces. Look, there goes his entrails!** _’” Oko said with some vague attempt at sounding deep and growly. It was a terrible impression._

_“I wouldn’t have let her eat you, pal, she knows.” There was also the matter of Oko’s ability to regenerate his body. Garruk doubted being eaten a little bit would kill him, or set him back very far for that matter._

_“Knows what? It’s a wolf, Garruk.”_

_He huffed in annoyance. Why did he have to explain animal behavior to a shapeshifter? “You smell like me. She wouldn’t try to take you from me.”_

_“Oh. You,” Oko’s face was going through an amusing series of emotions. His dark eyes were wide and there was some coloring on his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. “I do not smell like you! No!” He prodded Garruk’s helmet hard enough with his claw that it made a low ting. “You reek. My senses improved tenfold as I acquired the form of a hare. I could barely stop myself from expelling the contents of my stomach all over you!”_

_“Didn’t stop you from leaping into my arms,” Garruk chuckled. He had to refrain from poking Oko’s forehead back in retaliation._

_“That is... besides the point,” Oko winced. “Tomorrow. Clean yourself, or I will do it for you. I am sick of your perfume of rotting flesh. It’s disgusting, frankly.”_

_Garruk stood, rapidly reverting the difference in height between them. Oko’s external rage was quickly squashed at the sight of Garruk. Towering high above him, imposing and strong. Oko’s body language changed, drawing himself inward, becoming smaller and less threatening. “Oh? And if I say no? What are you gonna do, throw me in?”_

_Oko took in a deep breath before responding, “I will turn you into a beetle. And yes, I will throw you in.”_

_“Can you do that?” Garruk crossed his arms and frowned._

_Rather than reply verbally, Oko turned his attention to the wolf beside him. Reaching his arm out and brushing his fingers along her flank. Shimmering vines of green light appeared from his hands, spiralling toward the unassuming wolf and wrapping around her. Garruk watched as it’s paws became smaller and smaller. It’s pointed ears grew rounded, its snout narrowed. When Oko was done the wolf was gone, and where it once stood was a white mouse. The creature curiously sniffed about as if nothing had changed._

  
Oh.

_“I hope you enjoy your bath,” Oko smirked._

After that, he didn’t dare drift along the outskirts of the camp. Oko sat close to the fire now, if not against his side. 

One day, as they were walking through the woods, Oko whined about how he was ‘ _so cold Garruk. How can you stand it, Garruk? You’re barely wearing clothes, either’._ He only stopped his pathetic muttering when Garruk removed his pelt and wrapped it around his small shivering shoulders. The sight of him bundled up in his oversized clothing, and smelling of him caused _something_ to stir in his chest. Possessive instinct. Protect the pack. _Mine._ As quickly as it appeared, it was snuffed out when Oko opened his mouth again.

Typically Oko smelled of lilac and freshly fallen dew. It was heady, sickeningly sweet, and at times overwhelming. He had to distance himself to escape the aroma taking his senses hostage. Oko was inescapable.

While Garruk was fond of his sweet scent the same could not be said in the reverse. Oko often made testy remarks on how he needed to be cleaned, or rained on, or tossed into a lake. There were many comments about how he desired to give him a bath whenever they approached a body of water. 

Of course, while there was some truth to the man’s words, Garruk’s senses were far more acute than Oko’s. The odor he was experiencing was likely the layer of blood and flesh still clinging to his leathers from his last dozen kills. Maybe some from Oko’s leg as well. Rotting gore had a habit of stinking after a while. He didn’t see the need for regular bathing when he was going to get bloody all over again.

His little pixies didn’t like it either, maybe that was why Oko was all worked up about it. Didn’t want Garruk embarrassing him in front of his friends, or something. It was strange how fast Oko instituted himself as some sort of leader among them. The pests would go out hunting for information and return to him with tongues dripping with devious secrets. 

Garruk knew little of this plane that they were on. He couldn’t recall what had led him to it in the first place. Oko was barely any better off, his knowledge full of gaps and speculation. Most of it came from his pixie friends. The untamed nature they were in was called the Wilds by humans. Full of monsters, beasts, and things Garruk enjoyed killing. Other people called the Fair Folk dwelled in the Wilds mourning lost civilizations and living dreams of the past. There was also the Realm, where humans built their cities and castles to eternalize their sanctimonious virtues. Garruk prefered the Wilds to any sort of hypocritical civilization. 

The part of the Wilds they were in at the moment was named Maraleaf Forest. Every so often a curious pixie would flit about Oko’s shoulders and speak to him in some language that Garruk could not decipher. More came at night, dancing around the fallen leaves and playing in the fae’s hair as he laughed along to their jokes. 

The pixies did not approach Garruk, but they did send curious glances his way often enough. The curse was good at keeping things away.

Oko declared that they were searching for some elder fae who could guide them. If not that, then at least offer some advice. Garruk didn’t trust pixies any more than he would a human, which was not at all. They only showed up when they weren’t wanted, and annoyed you for the fun of it.

_Like someone else I know._

Oko seemed so certain that the local fae would help. The Maraleaf pixies loved him, so to him that was evidence enough. Garruk thought back to his father, and knew that such things meant nothing. People were cruel and selfish, and help didn’t come without a price. 

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


When the sun broke over the tree canopy Garruk smothered the fire, and strung his pack over his shoulder. 

Oko woke less gracefully. He was sprawled out among the fallen leaves and dirt. His mouth was wide open and his mock crown rested a good foot away from him. Garruk looked down at him and considered the most painful way to wake him. _Drop my haft on him? Kick his side? Pour water all over his face?_

They were good fantasies. It was hard to pick just one.

Somehow sensing the dangerous thoughts about him, Oko’s eyes blinked open. He stretched, arching his back and yawning. One of his clawed hands rubbed at the skin underneath the leather strap crossing his chest. His other hand reached up to paw at his sleepy eyes. 

“Mornin, pal.”

Oko jumped. “Garruk! Why a-are you standing over me?” He looked up and down Garruk’s figure, geared up and ready to go. Then his eyes went to the sky, taking note of the state of the sun. “I overslept.”

“You did. Turns out sleeping in the cold can’t beat sleeping by the fire. Who woulda thought?” Having accomplished what he had come for, he went back to preparing his belongings. Garruk made his way to where his axe rested against a tree, hefting the massive blade over his shoulder, and then looked back to Oko.

“I’m not very fond of fire,” Oko muttered. His crown was now returned to his head. Garruk didn’t understand the taste behind it, but this was a man who only wore a pair of trousers in the middle of the Wilds. “Or sleeping near another person capable of slaughtering me.”

“I’m not very fond of people, or working alongside others,” Garruk replied. “Yet you’re still here. Sometimes we have to deal with things we don’t like to get what we want.”

“That’s almost sage advice for you. Did you, by any chance, hit your head while you were sleeping?” Oko stood with a laugh. 

“No.”

  
  



End file.
